by Casey White
“It’s not a mess,” Rickard mumbled.
Madis’s eyes flashed dangerously. “Truly, now? That is your argument? How many of our demis are now dust, because of your foolish onslaught?”
“Yes,” Rickard said. As Daniel watched, he collected himself, setting his shoulders against the verbal attack. “There have been losses, Madis. And I regret that.”
Madis arched an eyebrow. “But.”
Rickard smiled tightly. “But, it has not been for nothing. I will not pretend to have led a perfect raid. I have made mistakes. But in the end, you will find that it has been worth it, Madis.”
“Yes,” Madis said, pursing his lips. “I have heard rumblings of this, too.”
“Not rumblings,” Rickard said—and he was starting to smile. The sight put a knot in Daniel’s gut.
Across the room, still huddled in the corner, Olivia slumped lower. She shook her head, opening her mouth. Will clapped a hand over it, hissing something in her ear, and she subsided again.
Rickard gestured toward Daniel, walking over to stand alongside Madis. “I did what I promised,” he said. “Indira did not lie. We had an opportunity—and now, we have access to Alexandria.”
Madis’s gaze turned to Daniel. His blood chilled. Something in the way that man looked at him. Calculating. Cold. But underneath the surface, there was a raw, burning interest laid bare that couldn’t be brushed aside.
He glanced to Indira, though, narrowing his eyes. “This is true?”
Indira was still seated on the ground, not trying to rise just yet. She too glanced to Daniel—and while it seemed like moments ago her expression had been regretful, now all he could see was excitement. “Yes,” she said. “It’s all right there. Like I said.”
“As soon as we crack its shell open,” Rickard muttered.
It was a tiny comment, but Madis turned back to him, his face hardening. “There have been issues.”
“I wouldn’t say issues, precisely, but-”
“I have not instructed you to be vague,” Madis interrupted.
Rickard nodded, biting off his protests. “Yes,” he said. “We’ve found our way inside, but...his defenses are strong. And the building itself seems to move at his beck and call. We haven’t been able to find our way to the core of the place that others have spoken of.”
“Ah,” Madis said. “The Library aids him, you say?” He glanced back to Indira. “Have you taken ownership? I believe my heir stated that was your goal, yes?”
Her cheeks flushed. She shook her head. “I haven’t- I’m afraid I’m not sure how to-”
“We haven’t been able to find his focus,” Rickard said with a sigh. “We searched him before transport, but...we found nothing.” His expression brightened again. “Perhaps- Madis, while we were fighting, before he was captured, he appeared to call on the old powers. Perhaps his focus is simply too different, too-”
“Yes, yes,” Madis said, nodding. “I see. Well, boy. Let’s have a look at you, eh?”
Daniel flinched as Madis looked at him, that hunger burning stronger in his gaze than ever. With two great strides, the man crossed to him, sliding a hand under his chin to lift his head.
His skin prickled as the Madis’s fingers explored the crook of his neck, dipping under his shirt collar.
“Ah- We searched him already, Madis,” Rickard said. “We didn’t find him wearing anything that might be a focus.”
“Quite right,” Madis said. “I merely wanted to check. I do so hate to cause distress if unnecessary.”
Rickard blinked. “W-What?”
Whatever his response was, Daniel didn’t hear it. Madis’s hands closed around his throat in the next instant, his thumbs squeezing his windpipe shut. He twitched, kicking out instinctively, but Madis might as well have been a brick wall. His lungs burned. His head pounded.
Somewhere, someone was screaming. A woman. Olivia. The man throttling him seemed wholly unbothered. If anything, he clamped down harder.
Again, Daniel kicked, trying to twist free, but there was nowhere to go. Someone had him by the shoulders, pinning him down, and the manic racing of his pulse beat faster and faster. The sound of her screams was going tinny, fading around the edges, and-
All at once the pressure let up, and Daniel slumped forward, spluttering. His own ragged breathing resounded in his ears, panicked and terrified. His lungs seared with fire, and his throat- Well, his throat felt about as good as if a grown man had been using it as a stress ball.
Something clinked—and his hair rustled as something brushed past it.
“There, see?” Madis said. “The Library is an overprotective hen.”
Daniel cracked his eyes open in time to see him lean back, Daniel’s Librarian pendant dangling from his fist. “W-Wait,” he croaked. His skin prickled, as though a part of him had been cut away. “Don’t-”
“I don’t understand,” Rickard said. “What happened? And...how did you know? How did-”
“She will not show her face, normally,” Madis said, peering down at the golden book. He nodded, apparently satisfied, and gestured for Indira to approach. “She does not have to. She is the oldest, after all, and her magic operates by different rules.”
“T-The oldest? She? But- w-what are you-”
“But, when succession is threatened, she will show her face, so that she may be passed to a new Librarian.” He reached out, holding the necklace in front of Indira. “Sometimes she merely needs...reminding, of such matters. Of her place.”
Indira held her cupped hands up, eyes round, and Madis let the necklace fall into her palms.
Daniel just...stared. Nausea roiled in his gut, and his skin was still shivering, like he’d suddenly broken into a cold sweat. Nothing could quite quell the feeling of betrayal stirring within him, though.
Alexandria was...she was his. She couldn’t be taken away from him so easily. It wasn’t...It wasn’t right. And it was just a necklace, besides.
Wasn’t it?
“Do not look so upset, Librarian.” Madis’s words brought Daniel back to reality, and he looked up. Madis was looking at him, a tiny smile on his lips. “We have an opportunity. Now, we might finally undo the wrongs committed so long ago. I will admit, I did not expect for this to be the outcome, but...my heir has once again surprised me.”
Rickard didn’t respond. He was still staring at Madis, confusion plain in his eyes—alongside a healthy dose of what looked like hurt. Distrust? Betrayal?
“Nevertheless,” Madis continued. He stepped forward, nodding to someone behind Daniel. “I think you’ll find that once the head has been lopped off, the rest of the body will tumble after. Let us return, and finish this. Janik?”
A figure flitted at the edge of Daniel’s vision. That dark-haired man. The one with the vials. He hurried closer, muttering to himself.
The whole situation was devolving. He’d thought he was holding his own, keeping a grip on things. Now, with this...even that last grasp on stability was fracturing, falling away. And he didn’t know what to do. What he could do.
Something splashed against his forehead. The world blurred again, fading to black. He sagged, not bothering to fight it.
Whatever you’re going to do, Leon, hurry up.
- Chapter Thirty-Seven -
Reality snapped back into place like a rubber band slapping him in the face.
Daniel groaned, grimacing, and curled in on himself. His head ached, and that prickling across his skin had gotten worse. It was starting to sting, like fingernails across a bad sunburn, and given what he knew about the magical artifacts of the world, none of that seemed like a good thing.
But he was back in Alexandria—and so was Madis. He didn’t have time to curl into a ball, feeling sorry for himself.
Lifting himself on his arms, he looked around groggily.
And stopped.
“Alex?” Daniel whispered. His lips were parted, his mouth hanging open just a little.
Because Alexandria had chang
ed.
He sat sprawled in the middle of a study, the bookshelves rising high around him—but where once they’d been filled with books, now they were empty. Even the structure itself seemed less grand, more bare wood and less tapestries. Smaller. Sadder. Dust covered every surface, as though not a soul had been there in ages. As though it’d been an eternity since she’d been read.
“What’s wrong?” Daniel said, staggering to his feet. He wobbled, teetering ominously, but straightened. “Alex, what happened? Where’d the books go?”
“There must always be a Librarian,” a woman said quietly. “You know this. And right now, she’s...confused.”
Daniel glanced over. He could see her—damn it, he knew she was there—but the instant his eyes settled onto her form, she vanished into black mists.
His hand rose, pressing to his chest. He’d been in his uniform, the last time he came here. Now, he was dressed as plainly as he was outside, just a tee and bloodstained jeans. Somewhere in the taking of him, even his jacket must have been lost.
And there was nothing around his neck.
“Come on,” he whispered, focusing. “I know you’re there. Come on.”
Nothing. No chain appearing under his fingers, no pendant dangling along his sternum. The necklace was gone.
“Okay,” he whispered, his unease growing by the second. “So...is this what it’s like inside the Library when it’s closed? Is this-”
A voice called from somewhere nearby. Daniel froze.
Nothing. Just...more quiet. But he’d heard it. If Madis was in here, then Daniel needed to hurry up and stop him. With how much he’d seemed to know about Alexandria, there was no telling the destruction he could cause.
He hurried forward, his eyes on the bare-bones archway ahead—but something flickered at the edge of his vision. He slowed, glancing to the side, where a tall, wide window sat waiting.
Outside was just...nothing. Dead grass and the flat terrain of the practice grounds. Beyond that, the world faded out to blurry nothingness where-
Daniel blinked—and gaped, his blood chilling.
It looked like the Edge was moving. Like it was drawing closer. But surely that was impossible. The Edge just was. It was a constant, the boundary of Alexandria’s domain and-
A bush vanished into the fog, a puff of leaves billowing away on the wind before they, too, were swallowed up.
“No,” Daniel said, stumbling away from the window. “Alex? What’s happening? What should I-”
Another call from beyond the room—this time, accompanied by a laugh. Daniel glanced toward the sound, then back to the still-approaching Edge.
“Hold on,” he whispered. “I’ll figure something out.”
Spinning away, he bolted for the archway.
Fighting to keep from stumbling, he followed the Library where it led him. What he saw shook him all the way to his core. The halls were bare. The studies seemed to grow smaller, dingier with every iteration, until he passed through one that might as well have been an empty warehouse, all bare concrete and metal racks.
The sound of voices led him on, farther than a voice had any right to carry, until at last, he opened a door and saw three figures striding down the hallway farther ahead.
“And you’re sure this is the right way?” Indira. She sounded unsure—and when Daniel peered across the distance, she clung to Madis’s side, looking around with dismay. “I do not understand what you’re hoping to find.”
“It’s quite simple,” Madis said with a dramatic sigh, sweeping a hand out to gesture at the Library around them. “This place is alive, in a way. Everything living has a core, does it not? A heart. A wellspring.”
“Then you think-”
“What’s that?” Rickard said, twisting back around.
Too late. Daniel had already lunged from the shadows, all his fear and anger focused into a single, red-hot point. One hand thrust forward, like he was plunging a knife into the trio. The wind rose to gale strength, coursing across the distance to slam into them.
He’d drive them apart, and then pin them, and-
Madis turned. His hand came up, his lips pulling down into a frown.
The winds slammed back into him, reversing course in the blink of an eye. He fought for control, his legs tensed. Hold them. The floorboards around the trio splintered, shaping into a jagged ridge. Higher. Wooden bars shot toward the ceiling.
Rickard stiffened, starting to come to the ready, but Madis brought his hand across sharply, like a blade. The bars sheared off in an instant, flying back across the distance like missiles.
Still buffeted by the winds, Daniel could only gape. A beam caught him about the middle in the next instant, hitting like a truck. He crashed backward, hitting the wall hard, and crumpled to the ground.
“I did wonder when you would show your face,” he heard Madis say. The words had that odd, canned sound again. Every breath hurt. Moving hurt. “Do not trouble yourself. You will not be able to stop us, regardless.”
Daniel wheezed, clutching his ribs, and tried to stand. His legs were like noodles beneath him, unwilling to listen.
Madis had already turned away when he looked up again, striding off down the hall with his companions. Indira glanced back to him, her eyes full of sorrow but her lips tight.
Rickard only stared at Madis, that same hurt lingering in his expression.
“Where are we going?” Indira finally said, tearing her eyes off Daniel.
Madis nodded. “Onward, Guildmaster. As I told you, we must find the source of this place’s power. There, I can do what I must. And, ah...until then…”
As Daniel watched, Madis snapped his fingers—and energy crackled in response. An orb shimmered to life, filling the between them and Daniel with a transparent blue shield.
“Rest assured that we will be safe,” he said, offering Indira a smile. She returned it.
“No,” Daniel whispered, wrapping his hand around an ornamented pillar “Not...Not like this.” This wasn’t what he’d wanted. It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. “Alex. Please. If you’re there...stop them, damn it.”
She didn’t respond—but the scream of splintering, shattering wood filled the air.
Rickard and Indira spun around. Madis followed more slowly, one eyebrow raised.
The hallway behind them shuddered. The timbers shaping it twisted, distorting, then gave way to a blank, hazy fog.
“W-What is that?” Indira cried, stumbling away from it. Her eyes flicked back to Daniel. “L-Librarian? What is-”
“The Edge,” Daniel rasped, lurching away from it, back toward their blue-glowing shield. “It’s- It’s the end. Of Alex, and her domain. It’s-”
“Ah, you see, Guildmaster?” Madis said, his voice smug. “It’s quite simple. It seems such a barrier is the edge of the Library’s territory, her reality. And if that is the boundary, then does it not follow that at the center of it all lies the heart which we seek?”
“You know all of this,” Rickard said, standing on the far side of Indira. “Such knowledge. Intricacies about how this place works. Did you-”
“I-I suppose,” Indira said. Her gaze was on the Edge, though, and she kept inching away from it. “We should...We should go. Yes.”
Light flared. Stumbling down the hallway, Daniel glanced back, eyes wide—in time to see bright-glowing shapes flit from the walls, darting with inhuman speed past him. Just as quickly, they were gone.
“Dreamers?” he whispered.
Madis’s laughter brought him up short. “See, guildmaster?” he said, clapping Indira on the shoulder. “These apparitions move away from such an obstacle, no doubt returning to Alexandria herself. They shall be our guide, yes?”
Daniel shook his head, clenching his jaw. The dreamers were running—fleeing ahead of the destruction. The destruction of Alexandria, of the Library. His Library.
Forcing himself back into motion, he threw himself down the hallway toward Madis and his companions, roaring. The time
for subtlety was past. Fireballs flew from his hands to smash into their shield . Over and over again, red exploded against the blue. Each time, the barrier shuddered, coming perilously close to failing, but somehow held.
Behind, the Edge rumbled closer, devouring everything in its path. Rafters fell from higher in the Library, dissolving to dust on the wind as they crashed into the void. Daniel tried to push back on it, to hold it at bay while keeping up his onslaught. Sweat poured down his back, but that was all. The fog didn’t slow its advance in the slightest.
And still, Madis walked, seemingly unbothered by the attacks.
An archway passed by, the bare wood silvered and cracked. Daniel faltered, clinging to it, as the hall widened into a room beyond.
It was just...bare. There were only two shelves, one on either side of the passage, with windows letting a gleam of hazy grey light through their tired, warped glass.
Beyond it, though, loomed the blank nothingness of the Edge, perilously close— in front of them.
The circle is shrinking, Daniel whispered to himself, transfixed at the sight. How far has it collapsed?
If the Edge was behind them, and right there outside the window...too far. It’d shrunk much too far. He turned back to Madis with a snarl, breaking into a shambling run.
The walls collapsed around Madis’s group, pressing in on them, but he only raised a hand. The orb swelled, screeching as its energies scraped along the wood and stone.
The windows shattered. Daniel hurled the fragments straight toward Madis with a gasp, his breath coming ragged. They lanced into the shield, leaving cracks—but dissolved to sand without breaching it. Before Daniel’s eyes, the cracks reformed.
There had to be something he could do. This ‘study’ was small, downright pathetic by Alexandria’s standards, and already he could see another doorway approaching. A doorway he recognized, one as familiar to him as anything in the Library.
He couldn’t let them reach the sitting room. Not now. Not ever.
